


A Murphy Halloween

by LonelyMusings



Category: Monsters vs Aliens (2009)
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Slice of Life, headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-03 22:59:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15828678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyMusings/pseuds/LonelyMusings
Summary: Not that the Halloween special wasn't fantastic, but here's an alternate story of the monsters' first free Halloween.While Link, Bob, Dr. Cockroach, and Insectosaurus host a charity haunted house, Susan heads home to spend the holiday with her family.





	1. Happy Haunting

“There,” Susan sighed as she pushed the last shipping container into place. As it hit the ground it kicked up a cloud of dry autumn earth that made The Missing Link cough. He blinked and waved the dust from his face as the giant stood and brushed off her hands. “You guys sure you can get it all set up? I can stay and help for a little bit, I have time.” 

“That won’t be necessary, Susan, we have plenty of capable hands. And I do believe the decoration requires a more-- delicate touch,” Dr. Cockroach called up to her. He was busy scurrying between several animatronics and a homemade generator, testing each of them before they were whisked away and set into place by volunteers.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a halloween expert!” Susan crossed her arms in defiance as she eyed the truckloads of props being unloaded. 

“It means we found the zombie you tried to set up earlier,” Link mentioned with a smirk and a nod back towards the truck. Susan winced a bit. 

“I was hoping no one would notice that…” she breathed. They wouldn’t be getting their rental deposit back. 

“We love you, Suz, but nothing you do is hard to notice. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.” The ape nudged Dr. Cockroach, who was suppressing a giggle. 

“Man, it’s not fair.” Susan dropped into a cross-legged sit with a thud that rumbled the immediate area. “Decorating is my favorite part of Halloween.” 

“It’s the price you pay for having stupid-cool superpowers and being a global hero.” The Missing Link flexed his arms as he spoke, striking a heroic pose. Susan looped her little finger through the crook of his elbow and curled, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. Link held his arm steady and allowed himself to be elevated. At one time this would have spooked him, but now it was an exchange that happened often between the two of them. The giantess couldn’t help but crack a smile that spread to her finned friend, and after a few bounces she let him safely to the ground. 

“Don’t get too down on yourself, dear. Stay with us a bit and lend your expertise. Here.” The doctor scooped up his clipboard and clamped it between his teeth, so as to use his hands to scurry up Susan’s side and sit on her shoulder. From his perch he flipped through the clipped pages and found the plans. He held the clipboard in front of Susan’s face, but it was too small for her to see. She took it gently from him and held it at a distance with two fingers, squinting intently. “The patrons will enter here, and exit here,” Dr. Cockroach illustrated, connecting the drawing to the complex of containers before them. “The last two rooms go to Link and I, and the rest will be stuffed with actors and animatronics. Bob and Butterflyosaurus will be outside for pictures, under Monger’s supervision of course.”

Susan nodded, handing the clipboard back to the doctor.

“How are you decorating your rooms?” Susan asked, curiosity and a twinge of caution in her voice. 

“Well, I can’t speak for Link, but I’m just moving some of my older experiments in. They’re already rather crude and dusty, so I thought they’d fit in nicely.” Susan turned her head and gave the mad scientist a skeptical look. “So long as nobody touches anything, it’s perfectly safe.” It was a futile attempt to reassure her, she merely blinked at him to renew her stare. With a sigh he conceded. “Very well, I’ll go rummage for some more stable decor.” He bit his clipboard again and scurried back down Susan’s side. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” She added. 

“At least he’ll listen to one of us,” Link huffed as he set down a large box. 

“I just figure, since the proceeds are going to repair the children’s hospital, we don’t need to send them any new patients.” The ape chuckled at the response as he straightened his back.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay? People will be pretty psyched to see you.” 

“No, I’m going to my parents. The only time I ever missed a Murphy Halloween was last year, Derek dragged me to some party another anchor was throwing.”

“Oh geez,” Link winced.

“It was a horrible party too, and he spent the whole time schmoozing to try and get some promotion.” 

“Why did you even go? He knew how much Halloween meant to you, I assume,” asked Dr. Cockroach, who had returned with a crate of discarded equipment.

“He was always so pushy, but I guess I was kindof a pushover. If I’d have known it was the last Halloween I’d be able to fit in the house I’d probably have put my foot down,” Susan answered lightly. 

“I can think of something else you should’ve put your foot down on,” Link grunted. “Actually, you should invite him to the party. The holiday’s a good excuse for me to scare him into next week.” Susan had a good laugh. 

“As much as I would love to see that, he’s the last person I want to spend Halloween with. Today’s just me, my parents, and my monsters.” 

“If I’m not mistaken, it’s about time you move out, Little Debbie,” Monger barked, appearing from behind the unloaded trucks. 

“I think it is,” Susan replied, getting to her feet. “Good luck tonight guys! I’ll see you after.” At the sound of her voice, Bob whizzed over from where he had been chatting with some of the movers.

“Susan! I need my goodbye hug!” The blob stretched his arms up toward Susan, but was interrupted.

“Now wait just a minute, I’ve got something I want you monsters to see.” The general whistled loudly and a large black truck rolled into view. As far as the monsters could tell, it looked like a souped-up, tactical eighteen-wheeler. The great machine hissed to a stop as Monger spoke up again. “This here’s the MT-GV, Monster Transport Ground Vehicle.”

“A monster truck!” Bob cried out. Link’s face brightened and he exchanged a high-five with the blob. Monger grunted, and continued to speak.

“Jet fuel is expensive, and as a certain 50-foot Californian tree-hugger pointed out, we certainly use a lot of it shipping you around.” Monger eyed Susan, who smirked slightly. “So, for short-distance monster moving on occasions like tonight when Butterflyosaurus is occupied, we whipped up this little rig.” 

“Sweet!” Link loped over to the truck, prying the passenger side door open and finding Private Arons in the driver’s seat. Link waved her a small salute before barreling past her and into the cab. Bob bounced in behind him, and Dr. Cockroach followed with a little more grace. 

Monger waved Ginormica to the rear of the vehicle, where he unhooked the reinforced trailer doors. She knelt to see inside and found the floor was padded, there was a skylight toward the front, and an intercom control on the far wall. 

“This will be your quarters. Might be a little tight, but we did our best to make it comfortable. Despite our many loopholes, we did have to keep it street legal.”

“It reminds me of the bunk beds at summer camp,” She remarked, placing a hand on the cushioning. She leaned in, testing her weight on the trailer. It shifted beneath her, but didn’t protest. She carefully clambered inside, laying herself down on the padded interior. 

“You in, Suz?” Link asked through the intercom. 

“I am,” she responded, shifting her shoulders into place. Monger wasn’t wrong about it being a little tight.

“Are you comfortable?” Dr. Cockroach’s voice buzzed.   
“Yeah, it’s, uh- cozy,” Susan answered, not wanting to sound ungrateful.

“Private Arons will be doing the driving tonight. Soon as the haunt closes the other monsters and I will meet you at your parents’ house.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Happy haunting, General.” Susan gave a little salute and Monger shut and latched the doors behind her. The muffled sounds of the other three monsters exiting the cab filtered through the trailer walls. A few seconds later, the intercom fired again. 

“Ready to go, Ginormica?” Private Arons asked.

“Absolutely,” she chimed. She shimmied a bit to settle herself, shaking the whole truck slightly. The engine fired, and Susan felt the trailer lurch forward. 

A few minutes into driving, Susan felt her eyelids getting heavy. It was still early in the day, but she and the other monsters had risen before dawn to meet the delivery and assemble the haunt. The close, dark quarters warmed up quickly with her body heat, and the gentle rumbling of the truck was lulling her to sleep. With a yawn she shifted to her side, a little too quickly for Private Arons’ liking. The trailer and attached cab shook, and Susan swore she heard a soft yelp from the driver’s seat. Quickly, she searched the wall for the intercom and mumbled a word of apology. She let her hand fall limp from the button and carefully folded it beneath her head, feeling her body melt into the padded floor as sleep overcame her.


	2. We're Live

Private Arons noted briefly the silence in the trailer, but returned her focus on the road. She had experience driving supply trucks, but never this big, and never with one of Earth’s most beloved heroes as cargo. She spent a good amount of time practicing driving the MT-GV before today, but the first real run was always stressful. Monger and Susan were counting on her, and she wouldn’t let either of them down. She flicked the radio on, letting the music calm her nerves.

Through all the decorations swathing the house, Private Arons couldn’t seem to find the actual address anywhere. But, based on Ginormica’s description, this had to be the place. It was the brightest house on the block, and still two costumed figures were outside, filling every available inch with candy and flourish.

The MG-TV hissed to a halt in front of the Murphy house, drawing Carl and Wendy from their work to investigate. They were surprised at the sight of the truck, but had learned to recognize one of Monger’s vehicles when they saw one. Inside, Arons breathed a sigh of pride and relief as they arrived safely. She popped off her seatbelt and hopped down from the cab with a smile. 

“Ginormica, we’re here!” she called, giving the side of the trailer two solid thumps of her fist. A surprised yelp came from the other side of the wall, followed by a metallic crunch. Arons gave a jump of her own in surprise.

“Oh gosh…” Arons heard Susan mutter. Arons quickened her pace and unhinged the trailer doors to find her passenger rubbing her head and blinking the sleep from her eyes. 

“I’m sorry Ginormica! I had no idea you were asleep!” She added, hastily making way for the sleepy giant to exit. 

“It’s ok, just the first spook of the night.” Susan scooted herself free from the trailer and inspected the roof. There was a sizeable dent just in front of the sunroof, where her head hat met the metal. She placed her palms over it and pushed the metal back into place, shooting Arons an anxious grin. “We just won’t tell Monger about that.”

“Susan!” Wendy called, rounding the trailer with her husband and waving her hand.

“Mom! Dad!” Susan turned excitedly and embraced her parents. Carl gave her thumb a hearty squeeze, much like the bear hugs he gave her when she was smaller. “The house looks great! Do you need any help finishing it up?” Carl nodded.

“Actually, we do! Your mother and I handled all the smaller things, but I would like your help putting the spider on the roof.” 

“Pardon me,” Arons interrupted, “But where would you like me to park the truck?” 

“Oh!” Susan straightened herself and gestured to her driver. “This is Private Arons, she’s one of Doc’s interns.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Wendy announced, taking Arons’ hand in a firm shake. “I’ll move the cars to the street so we can get it in the driveway.” She led the intern back around the truck to begin her task. 

“Come with me, Susan, Old Spooky’s in the backyard,” her father beckoned. The massive black spider earned the nickname ‘Old Spooky’ because it was the oldest decoration in the Murphy arsenal, as well as the only one that sufficiently terrified Susan as a child. Carl had tried to leave the six-foot spider on the front lawn, but his daughter would refuse to leave through the front door, or insist on being carried past it. She eventually outgrew her childish aversion, but if she was honest, it still gave her the willies. That is, until this year. 

As she stepped carefully over the fence and into the backyard, Carl noticed Susan didn’t give her customary shudder on first sight of the spider. 

“What’s wrong, honey? Is Spooky not scary anymore?” He looked almost genuinely offended. Susan shrugged.

“Well, part of his appeal was that he was bigger than I was,” she explained. 

“Ah,” her father chuckled. “No longer the case.” 

“Plus, living with Dr. Cockroach, I’ve kinda been desensitized to bugs in general.” Susan knelt onto the grass and gently plucked the plastic spider from its resting place. She offered Carl her other hand and then whisked them both to the rooftop. 

As the haunted house neared completion, a line of patrons was eagerly forming at the entrance. A few local news vans had congregated further down, and cameramen and various techs began to emerge, setting up connections for the broadcast. 

“Alright! Look at all these people, just waiting to get the caramel scared out of them. This is gonna be a good night.” The Missing Link rubbed his scaled hands together evilly, eyeing the crowd. 

“And scaring is ALL you will be doing!” Monger barked, seeing the glint in his monsters’ eyes. “That means so grabbing, no terrorizing, no experimenting! Or so help me, the insurance is coming out of your paychecks!”   
Link rolled his eyes. 

“General, how lowly do you think of us?” Dr. Cockroach asked, as though his pride had been wounded. He cracked a rather foolish grin and elbowed his compatriot lightly before adding, “We’re not monsters.”   
The ape bit his lip to suppress a chuckle and the General just rolled his eyes. 

“Get into your places, you lousy maggots, and I’ll go open the gates,” he growled. The two monsters scuttled and loped away and into the maze, still giggling.   
Monger rubbed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, approaching the entrance. The ticket masters looked up to see him nearing, and unlocked the gates when he gave them the signal. The line of eager guests began to pour in. One of the guards escorted the San Francisco News team forward, meeting Monger inside the gates. 

“Good afternoon, General,” the reporter greeted, straightening her jacket and adjusting her microphone. The camera crew buzzed around them like flies, finding the proper angles and lighting for the shot. A smaller group broke off from the team to set up cameras near Bob and Insectosaurus. 

“Good afternoon,” Monger grumbled in return. Media correspondence was one of his least favorite things. He’d gone rather quickly from being head of the most secretive base on the planet, to being manager of a world-famous special ops force. Suffice to say, he was not entirely used to broadcasting his business just yet. The reporter nodded to the cameraman, who gave her a countdown from three.

“We’re live here at the opening of the charity pop-up haunted house, hosted by none other than the monsters who defeated the alien invaders just months ago. With me today is General Monger, their decorated manager. Tell us General, what exactly can guests expect this evening?” 

“Well, I think we’ve got quite the scare in store tonight,” he announced, standing soldier-straight with his hands behind his back. “The Missing Link and Dr. Cockroach are both scaring in the house, and Bob and Insectosaurus are available for pictures at the end of the attraction.” 

“Okay.” The reporter hitched her eyebrows in spite of her smile, expecting a more enthusiastic response from her interviewee. Monger refused to indulge her. She cleared her throat out of range of the microphone and pressed on. “Now, it seems Ginormica is not with us tonight, can you tell us anything about that?” 

“Halloween is a special holiday for Ginormica and her family, so she has been excused to celebrate privately,” he delivered dryly. A disappointed expression flashed over the reporter’s face before she recovered her smile. 

“There you have it, folks. Tickets have sold out for this one-night-only attraction, and all proceeds will go to the rebuild of the San Francisco children’s hospital. Back to you, Henchaw.” 

Mike looked over his shoulder as the broadcast returned to the anchor. 

“You see that, Cheryl?” he asked, winding a cord around his forearm before loading it into a case labeled CAM 1. 

“No, what?” She set the box she was carrying down inside the Channel 172 truck and turned to face the monitor. 

“Susan’s gonna be at her parent’s house tonight.” Mike couldn’t help but loose a small laugh. 

“Susan who?” She gave him a quizzical look. 

“Murphy. Derek’s ex.” Cheryl’s eyes widened as she connected the dots. 

“No way.” Mike merely nodded and chuckled in response as he slid the loaded boxes into place. “You gonna tell him?”

“Nope. He can find out on his own.”   
Cheryl snickered as well. It’d be an interesting shift for sure.


End file.
